In French, with English subtitles. Running time: 98 minutes. Not rated. At the Lincoln Plaza and the Angelika.

I NEVER miss a new film from Jean-Luc Godard, although I must confess that I don’t always “get” them.

Early works like “Breathless” and “Bande a Part” are straightfoward enough.

But as the French New Wave icon and Euro-god grew older, his movies, such as “For Ever Mozart,” grew more fragmented, perplexing and claustrophobic.

“In Praise of Love,” opening today, is a welcome return to a more accessible Godard.

It is divided into two parts. The first was shot on black-and-white film, the second on color video, with vivid hues that recall Impressionist paintings.

There is a plot, something to do with making a movie about the French Resistance during World War II that would star Juliette Binoche.

But that is of minor importance. You have to appreciate the film for its Godard-ian quirks, like montages, overlapping dialogue, sumptuous classical music and cinematic tributes (ranging from Robert Bresson’s “Pickpocket” to the Iranian film “The Apple”).

For the first time in ages, Godard returns to the streets of Paris, à la “Breathless,” with breathtaking shots of the city, especially at night and in the rain.

Of course, Godard takes good-natured shots at his favorite targets: Hollywood, consumerism, TV and, especially, the United States. (“Pain in the ass Americans,” one character complains.)

But it would be foolish to take offense at Godard’s anti-Americanism, even in light of Sept. 11.

Instead, think of it as the rantings of a grouchy old man (he’s 71) who for half a century has resisted all efforts to dumb down his movies, insisting instead on making them his way and no other.

P.S.: Look for the great man himself, sitting on a bench, his back to the camera.